The Prelude into One's Heart
by EnigmaLight
Summary: "Sakura Haruno, exclusive doctor of the Queen in the Land of Fire, is charged with the crime of attempted murder. To atone for her sin, she shall be sentenced to a lifetime in Death's Trench, the prison under the sea."
1. Feigned Ignorance

_I'm taking a break from Silently Lost because the next chapter has too many feelings to deal with... Streeeeeeeessss..._

_Anyway this is a new story from me. I don't think a plot like this has been written... so..._

_And Lust is discontinued... sorry._

_I do not own Naruto. Masashi Kishimoto does._

_Summary: "Sakura Haruno, exclusive doctor of the Queen in the Land of Fire, is charged with the crime of attempted murder. To atone for her sin, she shall be sentenced to a lifetime in Death's Trench, the prison under the sea."_

* * *

_The Prelude into One's Heart_

_Feigned__ Ignorance_

_._

_._

Konohagakure was the capital of the Land of Fire, the place where the Queen lived, where her servants lived, where her exclusive doctors lived, where she lived. This was her home, a land of peace, tranquility, order.

She was the exclusive doctor in charge of taking care of the royal family. Because of this, she received special privileges: she could wander about the castle, use the herbal garden, use the medical facility, and determine the nutrition intake of the family.

She loved her job; it was peaceful, soothing, relaxing, easy.

She didn't want anything to change.

.

.

"Haruno-san, where should we put the drinks?"

"Haruno-sama, do you prefer red or purple?"

"Haruno-san, the guests should be coming soon."

"Haruno-san, we are out of quality wine."

"Haru-"

The rosette slammed a hand on the needlessly long mahogany dinning table, the sound of it echoing across the high ceiling room. The woman stared at her interrogators with an expression of irritation mixed with indignation. The servants stood in place, not daring to move a hair.

She spoke, her voice eerily low and quiet with a smile on her face. "Why was I not notified of this event _sooner?_"

The servants were hesitant to answer. It wasn't like this was their fault, but she couldn't help but lash her anger out at someone else— not a good quality, but she didn't really have any intention of getting rid of it anytime soon.

One of the maids spoke, her voice lowed, her head bowed, her eyes closed. "Your Highness decided to have this event yester-"

She glared at them, her anger now boiling. "Where is the Queen." It wasn't a question.

"In her roo-"

"Well then," She started. "_GET HER IN HERE NOW! WHAT AM I, THE MAID?_"

Her sudden bellow stunned the servants in their place, their expressions blank with surprise. Not one moved to look for the woman in question; this irked her already thin temper even more so. She could feel her patience growing thin and this time slammed both palms on the table, the sound of her attacking the poor, innocent table menacing. "_GO!_"

They scattered instantly, like insects trying to achieve a common goal but unable to due to their small, pea-sized brains. The rosette huffed and swiftly walked down the table's side to inspect the food, taking small bites from each dish to ensure the safety of the upcoming guests. Next were the drinks, which she thought were needless to try as she did not have an affinity with alcohol; however, the Queen was an admirer of the vain liquid, making it a necessity to investigate.

She heard the uselessly large doors open, and she turned around to greet the person in question. A woman with silky long blonde hair and honey eyes walked in. Each step she took forward elucidated her overly large chest, her frilly green-tea dress, and her dainty feminine figure. Despite her looks, the rosette was the only person to know that the Queen was actually a 50-year-old geezer.

The rosette tried to force a smile through anger burning her eyes. "Your Highness." She began through gritted teeth. "Don't you think a party on such late notice would bother our guests?"

"Are you saying that my decision is unfavorable?" She quirked a brow in irritation. The rosette knew better than to rub her superior on the wrong side; she was a monster when she went berserk.

"I am saying that it was on short notice."

"Nonsense." She chuckled and grabbed a glass on the dining table. "I notified them two days ago."

"Your Highness, to the rest of the world, that is on short notice."

The Queen looked at the rosette. "Sakura, are you worried about my safety?"

The Queen was the ruler of the Land of Fire, so of course she was going to worry. This woman was the target of all people; she was never safe, not even in the vicinity of her own household. So, naturally, the rosette was the main principal person in charge of keeping the Queen safe. Just thinking about the hoards of guests worried the woman. What if someone tried to assassinate the Queen? What if one of the guests were injured? What if she couldn't prevent it?

"Your Highness-"

"Even if I did get injured," the blonde woman turned, her skirts fluttering, "you would immediately come to attend to me, right? Then I have no reason to worry; you are capable. After all, who else taught you than your's truly?"

The pastel haired lady huffed a smile. "Please be careful, Your Highness. Getting drunk would probably turn for the worst."

"Let this old woman have some fun before she passes." She smirked and drained another glass, her rosy lips touching the glass rim.

.

.

The guests arrived when the sun had sunken, when the moon had awoken. Carriages sprinted to the front of the palace, their wooden wheels screeching in the front to a stop. One by one, men and woman stepped out from each vehicle; the ladies' dresses astonishing and colorful. To be honest, she envied those who had extra time to wear such extravagant clothing. It was like something out of a fairy tale.

She usually didn't join the party. It was too noisy and rambunctious for her. She would just watch and inspect each tray of edible delights that entered the dining room. Anything not allowed was sent back to the kitchen.

Sending them back was too much effort, so she decided to just stay in the kitchen all together.

The vicinity was bustling with life; every person was doing their part in making this party a success. So, she resolved to ensure that no guest was harmed.

"Sakura," she turned around to face the head chef. He was a man who had been working in the palace for longer than herself, more than fifteen years. His kind and nurturing character made him a very amiable consult for her rants. He had been looking out for her ever since her first day in this lavish place. "don't look so tense. The guests will be fine."

"But just think what will happen if someone _does _get injured..." She sighed and ran a hand through her extensive coral locks.

"Do not worry, every guest is protected within these walls."

Nodding her head, she walked out of the bustling hub and toward the dining hall. One of the servants handed her a drink, saying that it was from the head chef himself to the Queen. She would have to deliver it later. Even if they said it was from the head chef, the rosette wafted the vile liquid and frowned in distaste at the stench of the strong liquor. It was definitely something the Queen would drink.

She found the woman chatting with long-term friends, something she had always thought was a quack. The Queen didn't really have friends, only underlings.

The rosette stepped forward somewhat boldly and put the drink the in the surprised woman's hands. "For you, Your Highness. It is from the head chef himself."

She smiled. "Dear, me. I think I've had enough to drink, but one more should be alright, if it _is _from the head chef himself."

The rosette almost rolled her eyes watching the Queen act mannerly and feminine in front of the other men and women thirty years younger than herself. She was such a charlatan.

.

.

Several hours passed by, and the Queen was starting to act strange, not because of her getting drunk or anything. It was something different; she looked like she would pass out. To a normal person, the answer would be she was intoxicated, but the rosette was no ordinary person. She trained to support the healthy and attend the ill.

The blonde woman swayed back and forth, her eyes somewhat frowning in distaste. She looked pained, always clenching her stomach and gasping for air. The rosette walked forward and steadied the unusual woman. "Your Highness, are you alright?"

She huffed for a few seconds, trying to find the right words to say. "I...'m... not sure..."

The rosette walked the woman slowly to a chair and set her down gently, the woman quivering in her arms. "Your Highness, what have you eaten today?"

"The roast, the fish, the soup, the bread... and..."

"Please stay here. I will be right back Your Highness." The rosette left the worried amber eyed woman and sprinted around the table, tasting each food to see what was wrong. Maybe it was food poisoning, maybe it was still uncooked, maybe it was not ready.

Maybe it was poisoned.

Nothing in the foods even hinted at danger, so she ran back to the Queen with a staggering pant. "What drinks have you had...? Did you... accept anything from anyone...?"

The Queen was drenched in sweat, her lips gasping for air still. "I've accepted three drinks from the head maid and one from you."

"Do you know what kind of drinks they were?" The rosette panted.

"White wine."

"Where are the glasses that you drank from."

She stumbled for the right words yet again and closed her eyes, trying to concentrate. "On the... front of the table..."

The rosette ran yet again and investigated each glass for poison, or some type of vile that would put the Queen into such a state. Each cup smelled sweet, the scent of White wine, but the last cup she surveyed smelled bitter and sour. Like strong wine yet not. How could she not have noticed.

She turned around with the glass in hand to see a crowd around the general area the Queen was at. She panicked. What was happening? Why was everyone gathered around her? Had something happened? Was she too late?

Three people came out of the crowd and toward her, their eyes glowering. She looked at the man standing behind the two elderly attendants and saw the Queen herself collapsed in his hands.

The rosette ran forward, not noticing the tone of her voice. "_What happ-_"

The elderly woman was dressed elegantly, as she was one of the attendants in charge of the council. "Take this woman."

"Pardon?" Confused green eyes stared at squinty black eyes.

Feeling arms wrapped around her, the coral haired woman looked on either side of her to see the guards restricting her. What was happening? Why was she being apprehended?

"Lock her up." The elderly man mandated.

The rosette protested. "Why am I being locked up? Let me attend to the Queen!"

The elderly man glared at her, his eyes deriding. "As if we'd let a murderer like yourself to attend to the Land of Fire's monarch. Take her away."

"_Murderer_?" She struggled to against the strong hands of the guards. "What _murder_ have_ I_ committed?!"

"Shut her up." The man demanded and for a split second, she could feel the guard lift his hand and strike the delicate spot right at the nape of her neck.

Everything went dark.

.

.

The next time she awoke, her hands and legs were cuffed with metal. With her arms around her back, it was hard to move around. She struggled to get up into a sitting position; hurting herself in the process. The cell was gross, sticky, damp, moist. Everything about it was unsanitary.

She opened her lips to yell. "Let me out! I must attend to the Queen!"

"Shut yer' trap maggot." One of the guard scoffed and poked her with his spear, the tip almost touching her nose. "Yer' in no condition to be orderin' me 'round."

"Then answer me, why am I locked up here when I clearly did not do any harm?"

"The Queen collapsed. It's yer' fault if she's dead."

"I didn't do it!" She glared at the man through gritted teeth.

He smacked her with the blunt end of his spear, knocking the breath out of her. "Shuddap. Your fate's bein' determin'd by the council mem'mers."

What fate? She was fated to be the exclusive doctor of the Queen, nothing else. Her life and occupation were to be stable, so why did this happen? What had she done to deserve this?

She heard the door crack open and a man mumbling to the guard. She tried to listen but with no avail. The guard walked in front of the cell bars and took out a key. Was she being released?

She smirked, her eyes mocking. "Am I being freed?"

The man smirked himself. That stopped her sudden gleeful moment. "They're announcin' yer' punishmunt."

The color drained from her face as she was yanked up and carried on his shoulder like a sack of nothing. "But I'm innocent!" She begged.

"Not to the council yer' not." He chuckled.

He dropped her moments later and she looked up to face the council. They unchained her feet and dragged her to the middle of the court; she stared in disbelief the whole time.

The crowd of servant and maids stared at her from the back, their eyes filled with a mix of fear and anxiety. The head chef was there as well, with his hat in hand on his chest. His face was solemn.

The elderly man coughed from on the jurisdiction post. He adjusted his glasses and stared at the coral haired woman. "Today, we are saddened to hear about the illness upon our Queen. As of now, she is in her room being attended to by the exclusive doctors of the palace. Her condition is somewhat stable."

The crowd murmured in distress. The elderly man continued. "But, that is not the only matter at hand. It was recorded, that at the end of the event organized by the Queen, the head doctor of the palace handed a drink to her. That drink," he paused and lowered his eyes to glare at the rosette, "was poisoned."

Arguing came from the hoard of servants in the back ground. "Silence!" The elder ordered.

The elderly woman looked down at the victim. "Do you, Sakura Haruno, admit to poisoning the Queen?"

"No, I am innocent." Her voice was calm and steady. The crowd began to murmur again. "I did not make that drink; it was handed to me by the head maid, who got it from the head chef."

"How do we know that you weren't in cahoots with the servant?" The man surveyed.

"I was not. I do not have proof, but I am not the criminal. You are wasting your time with this trial." She glared back at the man.

The elders muttered among themselves while she stood still with her hands still cuffed. They turned around and the man slammed the book on the podium, the harsh smacking sound deafening her ears in the echoing court room. "Sakura Haruno, exclusive doctor of the Queen in the Land of Fire, is charged with the crime of attempted murder. To atone for her sin, she shall be sentenced to a lifetime in Death's Trench, the prison under the sea."

She stared in utter shock, paralyzed by dismay. The servants gasped. "D-Death's Trench? **But, I've done nothing wrong**!"

"Silence, you are under the holy oath of court." The wrinkly woman glowered.

The rosette bit her lip. "The Queen will vouch for me! She is my witness!"

The council members looked among themselves, a smirk on their faces. "Haruno-san, I'm afraid the Queen cannot come to your rescue. You have no witnesses. Take her away immediately to Death's Trench."

The guards came back, roughly grabbing the innocent woman and taking her away. She protested again, "I've done no wrong!" She looked over at the head chef.

_He was smirking._

After all this time, why was he not saying anything? They had been acquainted for so long, and when she needed him most, he was always there. So why not now? Why was he smirking?

And then it dawned onto her— he and the maid were both in cahoots with the council. She was the only person getting in their way. She was the trusted doctor of the Queen, the one who guided the Queen into making decisions. If she were gone... they would have the whole country to themselves... The Queen was unconscious. There was no one to jurisdiction their actions, no one except her. That was why they framed her, to get rid of her. They were being kind by leaving her alive.

"You're lying under the holy oath!" The rosette yelled as the men dragged her out of court. "All of you! You are all going to regret your decisions, I'll make sure of it!"

Their smirking faces were the last thing she saw before the door slammed in front of her face.

.

.

The coral haired woman tried to avoid the eyes of the other prison inmates; their gazes like animals in heat. They stood at the edge of the bars, their hands flailing out from between the bars desperately reaching to touch her. It wasn't a real surprise, with what they made her wear: super short shorts and a torn shirt revealing far too much skin. She flushed, trying to cover herself.

"A woman?"

"The first! The first!"

"What a little Princess!"

"Did the little Lady kill someone?"

"Nice legs, little lady!"

"Shut up!" The prison guard yelled and the inmates groaned, their arms somewhat sinking back into their cells, but not by much.

She shuddered in trepidation as she and the prison guard walked through the prison to her _new home_. The walls were high, filled with cells upon cells. It was quite hectic, with all the inmates yelling, whistling, and cheering.

The guard felt somewhat sympathetic for her and tossed her a large gray shirt. "Sorry, that's about all the clothes you'll get. Unless you want pants that don't fit on that small waist of yours."

She hurriedly fumbled to pull the over-sized shirt over her head. "No, thank you very much for this."

He led her to the cell and gently pushed her in, not used to dealing with women. "As you can tell, we're not used to having a woman here in the prison, so I can't really treat you differently— after all, you're a criminal."

She glared at the ignorant man, but said nothing back as to give away the secret. If someone else knew of the conspiracy, she would be beheaded. "Indeed."

"For a criminal, you're quite well-mannered." He laughed and locked the cell, his face shadowed by the darkness leaking from it. "You're a lot like another prisoner here. He's quite the trouble maker though. Just don't turn out like him, Criminal-chan."

"I would appreciate it if you didn't _call_ me that." She glowered.

He laughed, trying to ease the tension. "But it's cute."

"Then shall I call you Half-Wit-kun?" She quirked a brow before putting a hand on her hip.

He laughed nervously before speaking again. "He calls me that too... Anyway, the buzzer will dictate your daily activities. The doors will unlock and you will be guided by an officer to the designated place. Dinner is at seven and shower time is at eight. You'll share the shower with the other m-"

"_What?_" She stared at the other man in disbelief. "But I'm a woman."

"But I can't treat you differently..." He stated.

"Then you're saying it's okay for me to be molested in the showers?"

"Then should I come in and watch?" He smirked and she threatened to smack him through the bars. "Sorry, but there's no other time you can shower. Unless you want to shower early in the morning instead of sleeping."

"I'm okay with that." She said flatly. "It's better than showering with men."

He sighed and turned the other way. "I'll go ask the chief..."

She was left to sit in the darkness of the cell. There was a bed with a light hanging from the top. She pulled the string down and brightness illuminated her room. From outside of her cell, she could see the other prisoners watching her. It was quite nerve-wrecking.

She sat down on the bed and watched the perfunctory action of her legs kicking back and forth. They had given her shoes to wear; not really comfortable but decent.

Death's Trench, the super security prison for the worst criminals on the whole continent. They had built it on an island off the coast of the Land of Water in the middle of the ocean. The prison itself was built under the island as to cope with the irregular water levels rising and lowering; it also made it harder for inmates to escape from their demise. Every criminal in Death's Trench has killed at least five or more people at the same time, well, except for her as she was no criminal.

She was innocent.

She huffed in frustration and flopped down on the mattress. It was coarse and uncomfortable. No matter how she shifted it still felt like sleeping on the hard floor, but the bed was probably a bit warmer.

The guard came back and smiled. "Congratulations, you have to shower with men!"

She jumped off the bed and tried to hit him. "Do repeat that, I couldn't hear you through the screaming in my head."

"The chief doesn't care that you're a girl..." He shrugged and closed his eyes solemnly. "I couldn't convince him."

"Not with that attitude you can't." She huffed and grabbed the bars.

"Well, at least you're only showering with only one other person."

She perked up in excitement. "Just one? Then I can handle it!"

"It's still a man though... and he's even more dangerou-"

"I don't care; one is better than all of them."

The inmates from the other cells groaned in disappointment. "Dammit, way to ruin the fun, Dame-Officer-kun."

"Dame-Officer-kun..."

"Dame-Officer-kun."

The guard sighed and handed her a bar of soap and a towel through the bars. "These are for your shower later."

She smiled and took the handed goods. "Thank you, Dame-Officer-san."

"Please don't call me that..."

.

.

A man sat in the corner of the empty room, his face covered by his dark hair. The only light illuminating the room was through the tiny cracks under the door and the tiny window on the door blocked with bars. He sat there quietly, not moving a hair in the dark.

A guard came by and looked through the window. "You're sharing your shower room with the new inmate. Play nicely, alright?"

There was no answer from the man. Only a smirk and red eyes carved with black markings gave the guard his reply.

The guard was almost regretting his negotiation with the chief. That woman was going to die in the showers with this man.

A low, velvety chuckle came from the corner of the cell, sending chilling vibrations throughout the room. It was the first time the guard had heard him laugh or show amusement. "What's funny?"

"Being a companion with a woman." His voice was equally smooth and enchanting. He smirked and looked up at the confused man. "Indeed, I know. How wouldn't I, with all the screaming and yelling coming from outside? Attractive?"

"Of course, the prettiest woman I've ever seen. Quite sassy though... like you." The guard said honestly. The prisoner chuckled again and the guard frowned slightly. "You'd better behave yourself." The guard warned.

"Why wouldn't I? Women are so _fun_ to _play_ with."

.

.

* * *

_Thank you for reading! I'll try to update soon!_

_Please tell me what you think._

_EnigmaLight—9:59_


	2. Prisoner 1523

_Thank you for all of the reviews! I've been so busy with school that I couldn't reply to them. /_

_I was actually planning not to finish this because it was supposed to kind of be like a stress reliever, but since I'm beginning to like it so much I thought I'd update it some more. Plus, it's a change of pace from my other fics. _

_Thank you all so much; your comments mean a lot to me. Please enjoy the second chapter of this fanfic._

_I don't own Naruto — Masashi Kishimoto does. _

_Summary: "Sakura Haruno, exclusive doctor of the Queen in the Land of Fire, is charged with the crime of attempted murder. To atone for her sin, she shall be sentenced to a lifetime in Death's Trench, the prison under the sea."_

* * *

_The Prelude into One's Heart_

_Prisoner 1523_

_._

_._

Sakura laid in her bed, the sheets hard and coarse on her delicate skin. She hated this place, this predicament, this life. Weariness came to nibble at her toes, tempting her to just slip off into a deep slumber, but determination kept her toes in place. The woman rubbed her legs together, trying to keep consciousness.

She could tell it was early in the morning; the cell inmates were beginning to arise from their peaceful repose. They snarled, growled, and groaned. The bell would ring soon.

Last night she was told her bathing time (six in the morning) would match the other inmate sharing the facility with her, so naturally, she felt gross and sticky after not having bathed for the whole night. But she didn't care; she would get her reward in a few moments— a refreshing shower.

The deafening bell blared through the microphones, its sound cacophonous. Desperately, the woman tried to shield her ears from the raucous turbulence. Her ears _burned_.

It was time for the inmates to eat breakfast.

Cell bars clanged open, inmates rushed out, and she stayed in her cage. An officer came by to open her cell— the same man from last night. "Morning, Criminal-chan."

"Hello, Half-Wit-kun." Her voice dripped with a sham tone. "May I shower now? Please?"

He chuckled and opened the bars for her, releasing her from this disgusting man-cage. "Yeah. Hop to it!"

She grabbed her towel, soap, and clothes. Before even stepping out into heaven, the woman was grounded back onto the hard, vain earth with cuffs. "And these are?"

"I can't let a prisoner out on the loose without cuffs, now can I?" He smirked and guided her forward. "Now, to your heaven."

She walked with the man, her face clouded with woe. "Is the other prisoner already there?"

"Probably. I usually walk him out, though I thought you'd appreciate my noteworthy—"

"Then he's not there yet?"

"Are you even—"

"Hurry!" She dragged the man forward, trying to rush to her destination. "I want to finish showering before he get's there!"

.

.

"Don't you dare come in!" Her tone dripped with murderous intent. "I swear, take one step in and you're dead!"

"Yes~!" Came the guard's reply.

Hesitantly, she stripped off her clothes: removing her shorts first, then her shirt, then her undergarments. Just to be on the safe side, she snatched up her towel and wrapped it around her slender form. This wasn't a time to be cautious— if she didn't want to be seen, she would have to shower quickly without caring too much about the outcome. She was racing against the clock.

Frowning, she tossed the towel aside and let the first droplets graze her skin, and was surprised when it was somewhat warm; she thought it would have been colder. She let it slide off of her cheeks, rubbing her face in relief. Not daring to dwell on the topic for too long, she rubbed the lather over her skin and into her hair, running her fingers through her now silky smooth strands.

She stood in the same spot, desperately trying to cleanse herself without taking up too much time. She hummed as the lukewarm drizzle continued to rain upon her. This was the most relaxed she had been since coming to Death's Trench, but it was kind of ironic. Who would be relaxed in a prison?

After rinsing out her hair and washing the suds from her skin, she dashed to grab her towel and dried herself off. She dragged the rough material up her sides, soaking up any stray trail of water. Then she grabbed her clean pair of undergarments and clothes to cover herself with.

With her shower done, she cautiously looked up to see if he had sneaked in without her noticing.

There was no one in the shower room but herself.

"Are you done?" Came the guard's voice from outside.

"Yeah."

.

.

Breakfast had just begun. After rushing to shower without being seen, she somewhat regretted hastily running through the water.

The cafeteria was filled with convicts eating at the tables and guards watching near the sides. She hesitantly strolled through the doors, her hands clasped behind her back. She guessed that they hadn't noticed her. Good, that was good.

She hopped over to the line and took a tray of food. The man handling the line was happy to hand it over to her, a smile burning on his face. She smiled back and took the tray in both hands, looking around for an empty table to eat at.

Everyone was eating around the front, near the doors. All of the tables were full.

She looked around some more, trying to find a vacant seat to no avail.

A hard tug then a bump from behind made her instantly drop her tray, spilling her food. "Ah...!" The bowl of soup and rice clattered on the ground, her meal gone.

She stood staring at the wasted edibles, her hunger gnawing at her. She was so busy worrying that she hadn't even noticed the drenched man with flecks of rice stuck on him in front of her.

"Ya' pokin' fun 'o me?" His deep voice breathed on her from above. She shivered subconsciously, not daring to look the fellow in the face. She felt her legs beginning to collapse, her fear gripping her tight in place. "Hah?"

Dipping her upper body, she bowed as deeply as she could, trying to show her sincerity. She dared not glance anywhere but the beige tiled floor. "I sincerely apologize for my blunder."

"That ain't gon' fix ma' clothes."

Her eyes shut tight. "I will wash them—"

The echoing of the other convicts' loud bellowing startled her to a stop. What was so funny? She had only offered to fix her mistake.

Rage was beginning to build inside her; she could feel her eyes subconsciously beginning to narrow. Still bowed, she waited for the man's answer.

"Strip."

Not able to believe what she had just heard, the rosette straightened to look at the bulky looming form in front of her. "_Excuse me?_"

"Ain't it fair?"

"I don't see how that is _fair_." She was perfectly clear that the other men could hear the venom dripping from her tone. "Conceivably your definition of _fair_ matches the dictionary's definition."

"I think it's 'uh fair."

"Then you are a half-wit." Her voice changed from a hiss to a snarl. She was probably just making the situation worse.

However, it then occurred to her that the guards were not doing anything to stop the fight. Taking a glance at the sides from the corner of her eye, she noticed them still sitting still in place, their arms folded across their gray uniformed chests.

The larger man's rumble brought her back to her current situation. "Ya' gonn' strip o' wut?"

Directing her eyes back to the colossal man in front of her, she glared at his form. "If you think I am sorry enough to strip for the likes of you, then you can think again. I will not prostrate myself for a mistake that is only partly my fault. The person who pushed me, you, and myself are all at fault. I don't see why I am the only one to be punished."

He stood there staring, his brows contorted in confusion. A sigh escaped her lips. "Are my words too ambiguous?"

"Wut?"

"I said I'm not the only person at fault." God, this man was hard to keep up with...

The bemused glint in his eyes changed to anger. He raised a bulky arm in the air, preparing to strike her. "Ya' damn bitch!"

She stood ready to dodge, her eyes staring at the attack that was to come.

But once again, she felt a tug from behind and felt the balance in her body disrupted by a superior force. She gasped, her breath tight in her chest. She could feel herself being pulled into the crowd. In the moment of confusion, she felt strong, steely arms wrap around her form then spin her around.

A velvety whisper from her savior breezed through her senses, making her shiver; his voice ran like static down her spine. "You can't even stay out of trouble long enough for me to approach you, can you?" And then the pair of warm arms materialized just a quickly as they had appeared.

She caught her focus and looked around, the person who helped her not anywhere in sight. She ran back to the front of the crowd to look for him, but found him nowhere in sight.

A sudden uproar caught her attention. She pushed back to the front of the commotion and saw the bulky man threatening another. The man he was threatening was leaner and smaller than the beast in front of him. She couldn't see the face of the other man, only onyx locks covering his pale face.

"Who're ya?" The beast bellowed. "Ya' pickin' uh' fight too?"

The situation was spiraling out of control yet the guards were still sitting in place, not a muscle dared to move. She prayed for the other man's safety.

"I was only passing through."

The man's voice was familiar. She stared, wide-eyed at the fight about to ensue.

"Darn right ya' are!" The man continued to bellow. He raised another hand in attempt to attack the smaller man in his grasp. "The only thing passin' through is gonn' be ma' fist!"

Adrenaline pumped through her whole body as she watched the other man prepare to strike the smaller one. She felt time slow, the world sluggishly turn. Looking at the situation logically, the smaller man wasn't actually _that _small; he was just not as large as the other man, making the chances for his victory somewhat slim.

The next thing that happened was a frenzy of confusion. The smaller man turned his lean, agile body to evade the other man's strike while still in his grasp. She gawked at his reflexes, at his ability, at his adroitness. Then, he flipped back around and curved around once again to kick the beast from beneath its large arms. That was the last blow to end the match— no, it was too one-sided for it to be called a match. She stood there staring like a log, wondering what had just happened before her very eyes.

Everyone was hollering; the crowd became frantic. Inmates were cheering, betting who would win the fight. Amorphous spots of colors flew around her. She could see the guards finally going into action in attempt to cease the fanfare.

She pushed her way to the front of the crowd once again, trying to capture a glimpse of what was developing. Standing on her toes, she peered over the other's shoulders to see the guards apprehending the large man on the floor, but the leaner, less bulky one was nowhere in sight.

"Don't resist Prisoner 1472." One of the guards yelled as another held the man down. "You will be punished for starting violence in the cafeteria."

The two guards holding down Prisoner 1472 were different from the others. Instead of the usually gray uniforms, they wore black clothing with dark, opaque shades. Onyx caps covered their heads with the insignia of the prison "Death Trench."

"Let me go!" Prisoner 1472 yelled. He continued to resist, his arms and legs flailing to get the two guards off of him. When the guards weren't able to contain him any longer, another man strolled up to them and touched the back of the prisoner's neck. He went out like a baby. It was a wonder to her how he had done so.

This man made her unsteady on her feet, her knees weak. The white uniform fitted on his body made him an easy target to spot out in the crowd of grays, blues, and blacks. He was a bit than the other guards too, in his late thirties probably. His hair was white underneath his black rimmed cap; the eye not covered by the black patch stern. He looked around and everyone surrounding him hushed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be late. Where are the other prisoners involved."

Hesitantly, she started to step toward the center of the mass when she felt a tug once again. Spinning around, she came face to face with the handsomest man she had ever laid eyes upon. His somewhat spiked-up hair was the darkest shade of black and blue she had ever seen and his eyes even darker and even more mesmerizing. She then noticed he was wearing the same drab outfit as the man fighting Prisoner 1472.

"I went through the trouble of saving you and now you just want to throw that away?" He smirked and pulled her close to him. He looked smaller when next to that bulky beast, but up close he was just as large— or maybe she was just small. He stood a whole head length higher than her.

She blushed at the close proximity of their bodies. "I never asked for your help."

"One should always accept help when given."

"Prisoner 1523, step forward."

The gorgeous man in front of her sighed and released his firm hold on her. She watched his back as he walked to the front of the crowd and towards the superior guard. "Good morning, Warden. How are you?"

_Warden?_ She thought. _He looks more like a ship captain than a warden._

"Your manners, as always, are noteworthy," The warden chuckled before putting a hand on her savior's head. "But I thought I told you to stay out of trouble like a good child."

"My apologizes."

"No, dear boy. You were not at fault. Now," He began to usher the other man towards the door. "let us get you back to your cell. There's been enough excitement for today." He turned towards the rest of us and hollered, "All of you, get back to your cells!"

She watched the two of them leave, their backs turned away from her. In a suave manner, he turned his head slightly to look back at her, their eyes meeting for what seemed like an eternity.

Blood red eyes.

.

.

She was guided back to her cell with the same guard as always. She never asked for his name and he never asked for her's, so she just called him "Half-Wit-kun."

He released the vices from her wrists and moved her behind the bars. She rubbed her wrists before speaking. "Who is...," she paused, trying to remember the man's name, "who exactly is Prisoner 1523?"

The guard was hesitant to answer, but he did so anyhow. "He's a special convict in this prison. You'd better stay away from him if you want to live."

"Why?"

He sighed and propped his arms in between the bars, leaning on them. "Each inmate has his own story. It's not really something everyone talks about."

"But he's special right?" Sakura leaned close to the guards face, looking him dead in the eyes. "Tell me how so? Think of this as... as story time."

"I can't. Hear it from someone else."

_"Pleeeeease~?"_

He turned away, mustering up enough will power to resist her begging. "I can't tell you..."

"This'll be my only request of you!" A big fat lie, but he bought it nonetheless.

"Fine," he started and pulled the rim of his cap over his eyes, shading them from her view. "but you can't tell anyone else, nor can you tell anyone that _I_ told you. Got it?"

She nodded eagerly and grinned. He continued to speak in a hushed tone, so quiet that she barely made out his next words. "Do you know the name _Uchiha_?"

"Of cour—"

"_SHHH_!" A hand made it's way to cover her mouth before she could slap it away. "You know what happened twenty years ago, right?"

She began mentally piecing together the parts of the story. "You can stop there."

He gave her a bemused look. "But I thought you—"

"_ENOUGH_!" She walked away and sat on her bed in the dark, looking at him with narrowed eyes. "I want to be alone."

He huffed and walked away, turning his back to her. "At least you're smart enough to know the story already."

Once she was sure that the sounds of his footsteps had faded away, she flopped down, back first, onto her coarse mattress.

Of course she knew the story of twenty years ago; it was around the time that Tsunade had taken her in. The Uchiha's were the ultimate clan in the Land of Fire that served the Queen herself. They were almighty, powerful, and tyrannical; however, twenty years ago, the Land of Fire was attacked: houses were raided, men were killed, women were raped, children were kidnapped, and the Uchiha's were brutally, _brutally_ murdered. No man, woman, or child was left to live.

Or so they thought.

About fifteen years after the incident, it was publicized that a boy with the Uchiha's purest blood was found alive. Alone. She had no idea that he would be in prison though...The only reason for him to be here was _revenge. _

"Uchiha..." She whispered. Turning on her side, she rolled up into a ball, trying to crush out grief for this stranger that she had only just met. She could feel pain, a pain so sharp she thought a knife had pierced her. "_How unfortunate for him._"

.

.

"Next time, do not approach that woman." The warden looked at the shadow-covered man through the bars on the steel door. "You have nothing to do with her."

He said nothing back. He only stared at the officer with the same blood-lust filled eyes as always. He gritted his teeth in attempt to control his anger for this awful, cruel man. His generosity was sickening.

"I implore you to heed my advice, Prisoner 1523." He stared back with one eye abyss black and the other blood red.

And he left, with his white coat swishing behind him. The convict stared at the chains that held him in this hell hole.

He hated the warden; his polite demeanor only added fuel to the fire. His facade of acting as an almighty _God_ only further dug at his irritation. What was he? His _father_? No, his father was _dead._ No one can't replace a dead person, not even if they wanted to.

He smashed his chained hands on the wall behind him, trying to shatter the links holding him to this goddamn place. "Dammnit!"

But he had received a gift; the heavens had sent him her.

"Sakura Haruno." He chortled softly at first, then into a blown out hysterical roar.

.

.

* * *

_Short, I know. Sorry, but I felt like if I continued to write the next part, it wouldn't give the same feeling._

_Also, if I made it a little hard to understand, the warden is Kakashi... I didn't say his name because everyone under him just calls him "Warden."_

_Please put up with my selfishness... /_

_EnigmaLight— 9:21_


End file.
